


The New York Lights

by sunsxleil



Series: Merry Christmas, I Love You [5]
Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: Christmas Tree, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsxleil/pseuds/sunsxleil
Summary: Since 1931, it has been a tradition in New York City to put up a tree in Rockefeller Center. Almost every year, it has become an event and a spectacle to locals and tourists alike to watch the tree get finally lit up. For Therese Belivet, it also means an opportunity to snap a picture of her lover, Carol Aird, with bright and pretty Christmas lights behind her. For Carol, well... it's another year to celebrate her angel in her life.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Series: Merry Christmas, I Love You [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035672
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	The New York Lights

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago, I saw the news about the owl that somehow got transported along with the tree to Rockefeller Center. It's in New York, from what I got, so I thought hey, Carol and Therese live in New York. Why not?
> 
> EDIT: Commenter MT said that by 4:30 pm, the sun would have already set in New York, so I fixed the fic up a bit! Not too much of a heavy edit, but still, thank you Commenter MT!
> 
> Prompt from a little Google search where [this list](https://oneshotsandheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/167716040859/christmas-prompts) popped up. Hope you guys enjoy it!

**_ December 1, 1955 _ **

Therese is sat at the kitchen table, newspaper held up as she drinks her coffee. From above her newspaper, she peeks at Carol, who flits about making her own coffee and setting their toasts on small plates.

It’s another morning in their small Madison Avenue apartment, and it’s just like any other day they have together.

“Jam?” Carol asks.

“No thank you.” Therese says. “Could you also pass the milk?”

“Here,” Carol says, sitting down with a sigh. “What’s the news?”

“Oh, nothing.” Therese says. She pours some milk into her cup before taking a sip of coffee, and over the brim, over her newspaper, she watches Carol. “Same as always.” Behind her cup, she smiles.

Carol drinks her coffee the same way every morning. Black, on the most part, rarely a trace of milk or sugar. Sometimes, if she felt like it, Carol would make her coffee the way Therese likes it. And oh, how adorable Carol looks whenever she does that, always unable to meet Therese’s gaze.

‘ _It’s how you like it,_ ’ Carol would say, ‘ _what’s not to like about that?_ ’’

Yet, on the regular days, Carol still looks endearing as ever.

Carol takes a sip of her coffee before taking a bite of toast, leaning back, and opening her palm to Therese. Therese hands the newspaper over, and she can’t help but hide her smile behind her coffee cup. Carol mirrors it, a smirk on her own lips, and Therese could only smile more. She sets down her cup, and watches Carol take the newspaper from her.

“What?’

“What?”

Carol shakes her head, a smile still on her lips. Same as always, and Therese wishes this will never change.

She nips on her toast as Carol reads through the paper. It’s a Thursday, so they both still have to get to work today, but it’s early still at 7 o’clock and neither of them have to be out till 9. In fact, Carol could be out at 10, but insists driving Therese to work. Still, they have time to lounge around a little, so when Therese sees Carol flip the page of the newspaper, she begins to speak.

“They’re lighting the tree in Rockefeller next week.” When Carol makes no move nor comment, Therese continues. “I was thinking we could go watch the lighting.”

For a beat, Therese is worried Carol would say no. Carol rarely liked staying out for too long, especially when they could be lounging around at home, free to hold each other and kiss each other and love each other without any prying eyes damning them to hell every five seconds. Therese understands, of course, how much of a nuisance it is to hide, but that didn’t mean they had to hold back completely, did they?

Carol takes one look at Therese, and sighs.

“But darling,” she says, “It can be so cold during the night.”

Another thing Therese has learned about Carol: she would rather be naked, wrapped up in Therese’s arms, than outside in her fur coat, _braving_ the night.

And while Carol sometimes could spare no fucks about what people thought, she never failed to give a fuck about being warm in December.

“It won’t be long.” Therese adds. “We could stop by for a few minutes then get going back home.”

Carol sighs again, and lifts her coffee to her lips. Carol’s hair is in her curlers, and she is wearing nothing but a silk robe. Therese thinks to herself how much more beautiful Carol would be, in front of the lights of the Christmas tree, in a dress she loves so much and looking past the camera at the woman she loves.

Carol finally puts her cup back down, but with a frown. “I think we should start getting ready for the day.” Carol stands and stretches, and Therese is fully aware of the pout she gives off. Carol doesn’t mind her, and carries her dishes to the sink. Therese gulps down the rest of her coffee, along with the last half of her toast. “Wouldn’t want you to be late, would we?”

It’s a no, then.

* * *

**_ December 8, 1955 _ **

It was 3 pm, and Carol was picking her up from work. Carol had called saying something 'urgent' came up, but from the tone of her voice, Therese guesses it was just an excuse to give her boss when he asks why Therese needed to leave early. So, Therese guesses Carol is planning _something_. What Carol might be planning, Therese did not know.

Even from a distance, Therese could make out the dark green car she has ridden in since that very first Sunday, and the head of blonde hair stark against the upholstery seen through the dashboard. The days were getting colder, and nothing like the sight of Carol made the tips of her fingers feel the slightest bit warmer. Therese steps up to the edge of the sidewalk as Carol parks the car, and from the passenger’s side door, Therese's suspicions since the earlier phone call are confirmed.

Carol doesn’t usually smile _that_ much when they see each other after work.

Therese gets in the car and smiles, brows knit. Carol only smirks as she shifts gears and drives back onto the road, driving… in the complete opposite direction of their apartment.

“Hello to you too, darling.” And Carol’s hand skims over Therese’s thigh, and lets it rest at the top. Carol is warm, and if she isn’t driving, Therese would try to kiss her cheek to return the favor.

“Why are we not going home?”

“Because we’re not!” Carol says. She looks away from the roads for a moment and winks, and Therese feels like a school girl in her lover’s passenger seat. “You’ll see where we’re going. Just a little further now.”

Therese is expecting a fancy restaurant, or a hotel. Even another impulsive trip to Chinatown, or wherever it is Carol wants to go these days. What she doesn’t expect, is Carol pulling into the sidewalk across from Central Park, parking the car, and getting out.

Carol’s head nudges to the side, points to the backseat. “Work ended a little early. I had some extra time.”

Sure enough, in the backseat is a picnic basket.

When Therese looks back at Carol, Carol is already halfway to rounding the car, patting the top of it as she makes her way around. So, Therese climbs out of the car as well and grabs the picnic basket, locking the doors behind her and following Carol across the street.

They lay the blanket down under a shady tree, with a nice view of the sunset, and a ton of privacy.

“What made you think of taking me on a picnic?”

“Do I need a reason to take my girl on a picnic?”

Therese blushes, and while Carol smirks and winks, Therese can see she’s blushing as well. “Well, it’s appreciated.”

“You bet it is. You should appreciate the food too.”

Sure enough, in the basket were a few sandwiches and canned beer, and a shaker in case they wanted a better drink than canned beer. Therese raises a brow at Carol.

“In the trunk, but only if you want it.” By which Carol meant whatever other liquor they had at home that Carol thought to pack in the car. Carol huffs down beside Therese, and to Therese’s utter surprise and delight, snuggles behind her and rests her cheek on the side of Therese’s breast. “I prefer not to have to get up and walk again.”

Therese laughs, and opens a can of beer for each of them. “I’m fine with beer too.”

They eat their sandwiches in the growing shade of the tree, watching the sunset from between high-rising buildings. It’s true, when Carol says the sunset in New Jersey is a lot more of a spectacle, but Therese thinks it would’ve been a spectacle either way. New Jersey, New York, Chicago, Italy—every place has its own kind of magic, and with Carol beside her, everywhere is Waterloo, and everywhere is Wonderland.

With barely anyone in sight walking around them, she takes the chance to kiss Carol square on the lips.

When she pulls back, Carol’s eyes are glassy, and Therese almost feels like she’s looking at a kid who’s been deprived of love for so long that she can’t quite believe it when it smacks her lips first in the face.

So, Therese does it again.

She kisses Carol again, and this time, Carol mirrors the fervor. Adds to it, even, and Therese cups her jaw as Carol holds the back of her head. Here, under a tree in Central Park, they kiss like any two lovers, and who cares if some conservative sees them. No one can hurt them, not in this moment, not when they are in each other’s arms.

When they pull apart, the sky has turned darker blue, and the sun has since bid its goodbye since they had sat down with their sandwiches.

“Should we do that more often?” Carol asks. “We should do that more often.”

Therese laughs. “We could make a day out of it. Do it every month or so.”

“Oh, every month.” Carol groans, and she kisses Therese’s collar bone, before leveling herself with Therese’s face and letting her words ghost over Therese’s mouth. “I could do this every day.”

Therese doubts they’d get tired of it even if they did this for every meal.

They pack up and walk the short distance back to the car, and Therese thinks, how sad it is that it’s a Thursday, so she cannot return the favor tonight, and would have to wait another night before being able to thank Carol in full.

There are always other ways to thank Carol, but that was the most immediate one.

Carol backs out of their parking space, and once again, drives in the complete opposite direction of their apartment.

Therese looks at Carol, genuinely bewildered. “I’m starting to think you’re trying to kidnap me.”

Carol laughs. It’s the most beautiful thing Therese has ever heard. Oh, even better than the Christmas carols on the radio. “If I was going to kidnap you, I think I already did it three years ago.”

Three years ago. When Carol swept her away the first time, in that department store, in that tree lot, in Carol’s former house, in Chicago, in Waterloo, in The Oak Room. And in all the places in between, and in all the places since.

That didn’t answer the question, though.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Again, Carol glances at Therese. This time, instead of her thigh, Carol takes her hand. “You’ll love it.”

When Carol parks the car again, Therese is slack jawed.

“Well?” Carol asks. “Winter froze you in your seat already?”

“But-but I thought—”

“You thought what?” Carol raises a brow. “I couldn’t take a little cold for your amusement?”

From where they were parked, Therese already had a good view of the Christmas tree. It’s huge, anyway, and Therese is perfectly happy watching the lighting from their parked car. But, as it is, Carol’s hand is outstretched, asking Therese to get out of the car and actually walk into Rockefeller Center. Therese could not refuse.

“Come on,” Carol says. “It’ll be fun.” So, Therese gets out of the car and walks with Carol to Rockefeller.

The tree is even bigger up close, and Therese can’t hide her awe. From the few glances she’s able to spare for Carol, Carol seems just as in awe as she is, but it seems Carol’s a bit better at dividing her attention. By the time the tree is about to be lit, it takes Therese looking at Carol for Carol to remember to look at the tree.

Uncaring who sees them, they stand side by side, hand in hand, as the 65-foot tree was lit up in Rockefeller Center.

Needless to say, Therese could not stop herself from gaping in absolute wonder.

She is only shaken away from her amazement when she catches a flash coming from beside her, where Carol lowers her camera, and smiles at her. Therese smiles back, and while she lets Carol’s hand fall from her own, she takes a step forward, and turns to face Carol. She smiles at the camera, and Carol snaps a shot. She does the same for Carol after, and, she thinks, this is much better than what she had in mind that morning.

Back in their car, Therese is still beaming with excitement, but with a little warmth blooming in her heart.

As Carol buckles in on the driver’s seat, Therese holds a hand over Carol’s to make her pause from buckling in. Carol looks up at her in question. Therese smiles. “Thank you.” _I love you_.

Carol buckles in the seatbelt and smiles back. “You’re welcome.” _I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: "It's so cold."
> 
> I apologize if I got the geography and directions wrong, but hopefully the New Yorkers who read this fic take it easy on me. On day, I'll visit New York too! As always, all mistakes are mine, and I don't own the characters—Patricia Highsmith does. Anyway, happy Carolmas! Treat yourselves to watching Carol at least once this month, and I hope you guys enjoyed that. Stay safe, everyone!


End file.
